Page 55

H arlow set the laptop on the desk in the room and sat in the chair. “So, what do you want to talk about?” he asked blankly as he eyed Wes.

“Well, a lot has happened since we last talked. Even more since we last spoke alone. How are you handling the death of someone you were…if not close to, who was at the very least a constant in your life for the last five years or so?

“We haven’t talked about the emotions connected to grief, but I’m sure you, considering your childhood and job, would be able to unequivocally say if you had ever felt anything you’d call grief. So the question is, do you feel grief, sadness, the pain of loss?”

“No,” Harlow said bluntly. “I don’t. I’ve tried. But the only thing I feel about Charity’s loss, about losing any of those I’d consider people I’ve collected, is—” He smirked. “—rage. I don’t cry, I don’t mourn, I don’t feel sadness. I only feel a drive to…”

How could he word it?

“Fix it?” Wes drawled, one of his brows raising in question.

“In part. More like make it balanced, or fair. It’s not like death can be reversed. Mind you, this isn’t due to some false ass morality bullshit. I don’t have morals, or a conscience like others do. I have a code that I follow, based on what my brain decides at that moment.

“Some things never change, some morph based on the circumstances, and some are only based on what I know I can get away with. Because as you should know by now, jail is a big deterrent for me. But I always found that when someone who I felt ‘something’ for dies, it’s easier for me if there is a guilty party to go after.”

“I imagine it would be. It's better to have a target for the anger than none at all, as then you’d just have to swallow it down and do nothing. But while your morals and conscience aren’t as most would be, you do have them. That code you described is basically what personal morals are, motivation or reasons aside.

“I would, however, agree that your conscience is less present when it comes to most of your actions. But rather than not having one, I think it’s more that you don’t realize when it’s guiding you to do something. Though there are more obvious times where I can definitely say you had some serious regret.”

Harlow snorted. “Like?”

“The first thing that comes to mind would be when you popped Foxx’s arm out of its socket. Really, anything to do with Foxx, and the parts of you that you have but use less, seem to be more present. Even you deciding to go through with being diagnosed would be considered an action you chose based on your conscience. Guilt over the possibility of hurting him.”

“How are you sure it’s guilt and not just my greed pushing me in my need to keep him? Though I will admit, when I almost killed him the night I changed, it’s possible, what I felt may have been…”

Mostly, he’d felt lost, and angry at himself.

“You have yet to mention that night, beyond the trouble it brought. But are you saying that you attacked him, and almost killed him?”

“To be honest, I don’t fully remember what happened that night. I have flashbacks sometimes. Random shit triggers them, and then suddenly I’m there, in that stupid ranch-style house, tearing people apart. Because that is what I did. I tore those vampires apart, shredded through them, viciously and violently. Even before a recent flashback, which showed me that I intended to kill him, I knew I would have. That I would have drained him dry that night, if I hadn’t come back to myself in time.”

“Harlow, if you had no conscience, you wouldn’t care about any of that, nor whether he’d have died or not.” Wes hummed. “Let me ask you this, what do you usually feel when you kill someone? ”

“Glee, adrenaline depending on the strength of my opponent, boredom, or nothing at all.”

“What did you feel when you realized you had been about to drain Foxx dry? What did you feel after you saw the carnage and realized what could have happened if Foxx had arrived sooner?”

Harlow’s jaw clenched. “Fear, panic…worry, disgust.”

“Guilt?”

“Again…maybe… What I was feeling is hard for me to describe. I felt…horrible. That’s the word that fits the best, to me. If that is what guilt is, then I felt it. Otherwise, I don’t really know.”

“Someone without a conscience would have felt nothing negative. But you did. And it’s because you have—despite your self-claimed diagnosis of psychopathy—managed to form connections with the people in your life. Not all of them are the same, or as strong. But it can’t be ignored that compared to your complete disregard for those you do not know, even those with lesser connections are able to draw out some sort of emotional response from you, aside from anger.”

There was that word connection again. “Well, according to some witch we met, my reaction to Foxx is due to my brain deciding that the vampire is apparently my anchor to—ha…sanity.”

“Oh my.” Wes held a straight face for only a moment before the man started to laugh. The laughter stopped when the human choked and coughed. Clearing his throat, Wes rasped, “An anchor, you say? Is this something specific to your species?”

“Apparently. According to her, my species sucks at forming deep connections, but when we do, that person, or anchor, can help keep us grounded, or bring us back from the brink.”

“And yours is…Foxx.” Wes nodded as if it made perfect fucking sense. “Such a connection being formed would explain your reactions to him, and why your emotional reactions are so much more than with anyone else. But Foxx aside, he isn’t the only one you have a connection to.”

“I have people I’ve collected, I won’t deny that. You happen to be included, by the way, so you’re welcome.”

“I’m flattered,” Wes chuckled, seeming genuinely happy about it. “Would you deny that you care in some way for your collected people?”

“I likely would have before Foxx, but don’t think I can now. Though I can’t tell you what that caring has manifested into, or pinpoint any moments that I have.”

“Tommy’s death made you angry, right?”

Harlow blinked at what felt like an abrupt topic change. “Um…yes?”

“Do you think you felt more than that?”

He frowned as he tried to think back. “Anger, and then…well, I had fun killing the couple. That’s what I’m remembering.”

“You’re going too far back. Go to the moment you decided to have Tommy reburied.”

To the moment…he decided to have him moved?

Harlow stared down at the grave, the rain already having soaked him through.

Dropping to his knees, he slowly traced the name. “I know you’re dead, and I don’t believe in any afterlife, but if you can hear me, Tommy, they won’t do what they did to anyone again, and they at least paid in part for what they did to you.” He chuckled at the nonsense as he pushed back to his feet.

It really felt ridiculous talking to the air, as if someone was there. But he would pretend just in case—Tommy deserved that much.

His jaw clenched as his eyes trailed over the too close graves around Tommy’s shitty, barely readable burial marker, which would likely fade to nothing in a few more years.

This…all of this was not what Tommy deserved. He had to fix this. No, Harlow would fix it.

Harlow smiled as the idea solidified in his head. He didn’t really understand the whys of the sudden urge he had, he just knew that he had to do it, and he would. One day, he would place Tommy somewhere nicer, with a stone that would last for centuries .

“I felt this…urge,” Harlow said slowly. “I don’t know if there were any emotions that came with it. There was anger right before, for sure, as I looked down at that already decaying, pitiful grave, then just acceptance that it was something I had to do, that I would fix it.”

Wes smiled. “That urge…perhaps that is what your care for those with lesser connections than Foxx manifests into. An urge to do something, that has no rational reason, just you knowing that you have to. With Charity, have you had any?”

“Yes. Some of the things I’ve done are, of course, just due to them being what Foxx wanted.” Harlow sighed. “But not everything, and not all of it is death related. One thing involves Charity’s niece…my thoughts on why reminded me of how I felt looking down at Tommy’s grave.”

Were these urges…his way of caring for the people he collected? He wasn’t so sure of that. But what the fuck did he know?

“The things you’ve done to make Foxx happy, what were you hoping for when you did them?” Wes asked.

He frowned. “Hoping for?”

“Your motivation.”

“To make it better. Charity’s death hurt him. Doing the things he wants in this regard is the only way I know how to fix things.”

“But you yourself said earlier that death can’t be reversed. It can’t be fixed.”

“No, but his pain can be.”

Wes raised a single brow in question. “Can it?”

Harlow’s eyes narrowed on the man. “You could just tell me I’m fucking wrong and why, instead of whatever the fuck this is, you know that, right?”

The human chuckled. “Yes, but it’s always good for you to come to the conclusions on your own.”

He rolled his eyes. “Am I doing things the wrong way or not?”

“No, there is nothing wrong with you helping Foxx work through things by taking on tasks that he feels will help him find closure. The problem lies in the need to fix something that isn’t fixable. More often than not, the pain associated with loss is not something you can take away. It lessens, and becomes easier to manage, for sure, but going away completely, as if it never happened? No. The emotions that come with losing someone are not things to be fixed, for the same reason death can’t be fixed.

“Charity is never coming back, and that is the source of Foxx’s pain. He has guilt over her death, Harlow. I’m sure he has mentioned some of it. But guilt aside, the pain he is feeling is because he will never see her again. He will never hear her voice again, never speak to her, or hear her call his name, and that is not something that can be tasked away.”

“I…get that, in part, I think. I even feel, or rather, I felt angry on hearing that stupid song she set as her ringtone, when I realized that it would never be her calling me again. Which is ridiculous as she annoyed the fuck out of me most of the time when she did. I even kept randomly thinking about that last stupid motherfucking nickname she called me.

“Fucking Bumble Bee. A name that's stupid as all fucking hell, but yet…I still find myself wondering why she called me it, and why I hadn’t just asked her to explain it, or any of the others she’d used, not even once. And I don’t get why I would even want to know that no doubt useless fucking bit of information. But the thing is, even if I possibly understand a miniscule amount of what Foxx is going through, I just don’t know what I should do for him.” Harlow roughly rubbed his face. “What should I do?!”

Wes stared silently for a moment, his expression slightly unreadable, before finally the man smiled and said, “Harlow, it seems that while you may not feel sadness, you can in fact miss people.”

“What?” He frowned.

“While it still manifests in anger, the fact is, it often does. Anger is a common emotion with loss. For you, it may be the main and possibly the only emotion. But you clearly miss her.”

“The fuck I do?!” he barked.

“Harlow,” Wes chuckled. “What else would you call wanting her to call you, wanting to ask her things, and being angry that neither of those things will ever happen?”

“I…” He swallowed.

Did he miss her? Fuck… He didn’t feel anything but anger when he thought about Charity not being alive anymore. How was that missing someone?!

Harlow growled. “Thinking about her just makes me fucking enraged!”

“And it’s okay that it does.”

“Great, I'm so glad it’s okay for me to be fucking angry,” Harlow drawled sarcastically. “Can we get back to Foxx now? You know, the vampire who actually has more emotions than his brain defective boyfriend? Because I’d really like to know how to make him feel better! I don’t expect him to stop feeling things, but I don’t exactly like when he’s sad.”

“And that’s because when you truly care for someone, seeing them sad is usually painful. For you, it's likely you’d describe the feeling as discomfort.”

“Not that I want to say anything that shocks you, Wes, but believe it or not, it makes me mad,” he deadpanned.

The man laughed. “Yes, I think we’ve established so far that anger is your reaction to many things when they are outside of your control, or when you don’t know what you should be doing.

“To be perfectly honest, you aren’t doing anything wrong. You are being there for him, and you likely aren’t pressuring him to feel less. But he is aware of you trying to ‘fix’ things. And he likely is worried about what will happen when you realize that all of it can’t be fixed. Foxx is also aware of your discomfort with those emotions of his. He has already informed me he is hiding some of it from you.”

“I already know that. But I’m guessing now that it’s more than I know of. I just…for fuck’s sake, why? I told him I don’t care what I feel about it!? That it’s fine. To stop hiding everything. His nightmares, what he’s feeling… Because he was hiding them from me, hiding that he was still having them.

“I found that out days after Charity died. I just want him to feel what he needs to. I’m okay with him feeling whatever he needs to. But he doesn’t seem to hear me when I say that.”

“He said I can tell you the things he’s told me, within reason. And I’m going to tell you now, the problem is that even though you say that, and likely show him that, in his head, he sees his emotions, his sadness, as a burden to you and those around him. ”

“It’s not! I’ve told him it’s not.”

“Unfortunately, when something is drilled into us at a young age, it can take a lot to untie the knots we’ve bound ourselves up in.”

Harlow frowned. Young age? “Does this have something to do with his father?”

“It does. And based on the little bits I’ve managed to hear from Foxx, it’s going to take a lot for him to let go of that.”

He clenched his hands on his knees, and let out a frustrated sigh. “What do I do then?”

“Keep doing what you are doing. Keep reassuring him, and supporting him. Keep doing all you can to help him through it, but at the same time, try to shift away from the idea in your head that what you are doing will fix him. And that is more for yourself than Foxx. Because, Harlow, what are you going to do if some of the things he is feeling, the way he is experiencing this pain, his trauma, never goes away?”

He frowned. “Like what?”

“His nightmares, the crying, his fears?”

“I’ve spent most of my life not sleeping through the fucking night, it’s not a loss. He is mine . He will be mine , whether he drowns me in his tears, or stabs me in the back. Foxx will still be mine, even if he decides to kill me.”

Wes’ brow pulled. “Should I be concerned by that last part?”

The man would be if he knew about the vague number of boyfriends that Harlow, at this point, was only guessing Foxx had murdered and buried. “No,” he lied.

“Okay…well, let’s stop here for today, but I want you to think about what I’ve said. Really try to let go of that idea of ‘fixing’ him. Next time, we’ll go back to a joint session.”

“I’ll let Foxx know.” Harlow hesitated before saying, “I feel I should warn you about how persistent Gavin can be.”

He still didn’t like the idea of Gavin dating someone so much older than him, but Wes wasn’t the one planning to pursue it. And really, it’s not like the human had played a part in the dragon’s decision to date him, the fucking menace had decided all on his own.

Wes blinked, titling his head. “Persistent…about what? ”

Had the human not realized Gavin had been flirting? “Nevermind,” he said slowly.

Maybe the age difference had stopped Wes from even considering it.

“Ah…right, talk again soon.” With that, the screen went dark.

Snorting, he shut Foxx’s laptop and stood.

Quickly heading out the door, Harlow started back towards Gavin’s room.

He couldn’t help but wonder if he should have point-blank told Wes that Gavin had been flirting with him. Wait, no, he had told Foxx he wasn’t going to interfere, so he wasn’t. He would just watch…and possibly block Gavin in other ways if the man pissed him off enough.

However, Harlow had gotten used to Wes, and would hate to have to find a new person to help him keep Foxx, and…help his vampire deal with all that he was dealing with. Not to mention, it was hard to meet a therapist he didn’t want to punch in the face. Maybe he’d tell him later…maybe…

Harlow knocked as he reached Gavin’s hotel door, it opening only moments later. Eyeing Foxx as the vampire stood there smiling up at him, the twinkle in the man’s eyes instantly set him on edge.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing, nothing at all.” The vampire blinked innocently while he backed up and let him into the room.

Harlow’s eyes narrowed on his boyfriend, before looking around the room. Laughter burst from his mouth when he spotted the small pile of clothes on the bed that were definitely not his, and certainly not Foxx’s. “You little menace.”

Foxx giggled.

Gavin looked up from his typing, glancing over at them with a frown. Harlow just met the frown with a smug smirk, his gaze flicking to the bed and back.

The dragon looked at the bed, his eyes widening. “What in the fuck?!”

The vampire picked up a bright green T-shirt, showing off a small white bunny that had been embroidered on the right sleeve. “Well, I saw how you were admiring the embroidery work I’d done on Harlow’s clothes, so…surprise!” the vampire said with another giggle.

“WHY?!” Gavin cried.

Foxx blinked, his eyes going wide, as his bottom lip popped out. “Don’t you think it’s cute? It’s cute, right?” The man let out a pathetic whimper. “You think it’s cute, don’t you?!”

Harlow bit his lip, holding in the laughter as he heard the exact fucking tone the vampire had used on him to get his way with the shit he’d done on his jacket.

The dragon sputtered and pointed. “W-what the hell is that?! What is he trying to do?!”

He came up behind Foxx, gripping his shoulders. “This is my boyfriend using his cuteness as a weapon.”

Foxx let out a louder whine this time. “Are you saying—” The man sniffled sadly. “—that you h-hate it?”

The dragon’s eyes widened. “Are…you… Don’t cry!”

Ah, actor Foxx had clearly joined the party.

Foxx sniffled again, hiccupping. “If you hate it…I’ll…” The vampire’s head drooped.

“No! I don’t hate it! I love it!” Gavin blurted out.

Fucking sucker… Though he had no room to talk…

Instantly perking up, Foxx chimed, “Really?!”

“Yes!”

“Then I can’t wait for you to see what I do with the rest!”

“The…rest?” Gavin’s expression pinched, as if he was in pain.

Harlow chuckled. “The wonders of having a new big brother! Aren’t you so happy?”

As the dragon started to glare at him, Foxx returned to the bed and picked up what was most likely the piece the man had been working on before he’d arrived.

Harlow smirked smugly in response to the angry eyes on him. In his opinion, Gavin should be celebrating. Was he not just being brotherly by encouraging Foxx to share his love of embroidery?

Hah—he was going to get Foxx some more thread. Lots and lots of thread. As the man’s boyfriend, it was the least he could do, and Wes had told him to be supportive, right?